


The One Where Top Marks are Awarded

by RurouniHime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, High Standards, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Top Marks are Awarded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amightypenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=amightypenguin).



> The second of thirteen ficlets I wrote for various people during a gift exchange this year. The goal was 500 words for everyone (and believe you me, that was HARD. I am Bad at writing Short Things). Everyone got a choice of my fandoms/pairings. This one was not a pairing I usually write, but I ADORE writing Snape into ridiculous situations, so it was really an embarrassing amount of fun.
> 
> This one is for the super amazing amightypenguin. ^_^ Happy holidays, darling!

Not many people know this, but Snape has a list. A very meticulous one, with extremely exacting items on it. They range from simplistic to outright dangerous with a sidestep down the lane of catastrophic, given the wrong audience. Snape uses them to determine everything he’ll ever need to know about one specific aspect of his existence. Not many make it past item four. Snape sneers regularly about this.

Remus Lupin is currently zeroing in on item twelve.

“That— Yes, there, push it— _Yes,_ you utter heathen.”

It isn’t that Snape tries to make people fail. He simply has standards, a long set that he refined for an entire decade before he conjured the world’s most complicated binding spell over it all and set it in stone. Literally. The first three don’t even have anything to do with sex. Number one is, for example, _A minute spark of something resembling intelligence._ One can of course see the problem inherent.

Lupin, showing again how easily he stomped all over item eight last week _(A certain amount of strength, if you could at least **attempt** to make this interesting for me, thank you)_ , grabs hold of Snape’s hips and hauls him back into his lap, grip tight in spite of the copious amounts of sweat _(Number seven: If I am not utterly drenched by the end of this endeavour, you will vacate the premises immediately)_. Grinds in hard, circling his hips. Before Snape can bark out a “Ha!” he thrusts again, sharp and sure, rougher than before. Snape’s rebuke slides off his tongue and dies there amidst the twisted bed sheets. It’s really an unfair advantage, Lupin being a supernatural creature, but then Snape did make that exception for the Kelpie six years ago, and he’d have to be an absolute cretin to halt sex this good.

“Bend it back over,” Snape gasps, “or you fail.”

Lupin bends him over all right, hunches him bodily into the bed until his chest chafes over the mattress, and fucks him blind.

“Crup style?” Lupin grunts into his ear. “Really?”

“I admit,” Snape manages— one’s prostate under constant battery by a thick object strangely has an effect on the larynx— while gripping onto the iron frame to keep from smacking his skull into it, “there is a slight handicap in your favour with this— _ah_ —”

Lupin’s growl is audible, the clamp of rather sharp teeth on Snape’s shoulder awfully titillating. He flattens atop Snape, his front all along Snape’s back, hugs both arms round his waist and thrusts in so deep— stays there, _presses_ there, Salazar on a _stick_ —

Snape comes. Hard.

It’s a moment before he can really function. Lupin straightens up, peeling his sweaty body away from Snape’s with an almost painful tug. “How am I doing, then?”

Snape collapses onto the bed with an embarrassingly vocal sigh. He’s still full. He flattens his palms to the sheets and curls his fingers luxuriantly in their cool threads. “Top marks, Professor,” he wheezes.

~fin~


End file.
